
Ch^J J< 03 52S 

Book. A ' : i s 

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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Lyrics of Childhood 



LYRICS OF 
CHILDHOOD 



BY 



Edward Mayhugh 




THE GRAFTON PRESS 



NEW YORK 






UBBARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

JUL 30 1904 
I Cooyrfeht Entry 

CLASS <^XXe. No. 

flro ?. 

* COPY B 



Copyright 1904, by 
The Grafton Press 



PREFACE. 

"Give me truth," wrote Emerson ; "for I am 
weary of the surfaces and die of inanition." 

He asked the artist to paint a picture that 
should live, though the bright colors fade, a 
painting that shall live through all the ages of its 
own naturalness. " Our eyes are armed," said, 
he, " but we are strangers to the stars and stran- 
gers to the mystic beast and bird and strangers 
to the plant and to the mine." 

He wishes to impress us that we too often fail 
to delve under the surfaces of things where the 
brightest treasures, the sweetest impressions are 
found. 

In all his spirited essays and poems he is in 
sympathy with Wordsworth, 

" Seek who will delight in fable 
I shall tell you truth." 

As we become acquainted with the natural 
world by the study of natural science (which is 
said to supply the most efficient training in 
sense-observation), so we become acquainted 
with the child by the study of the child which is 
only efficiently done by association and observa- 
tion. 

We read their dispositions as we read a book ; 
we read, reflect, take notes, and if we think 
their childish pranks worth jotting down in form 
of song and story, we do so not merely for the 
child's pleasure and benefit, but for " The whole 
man with nobler thoughts to fill," 

" To touch the heart and make its pulses thrill, 
To raise and purify the groveling soul, 
To warm with generous heart the selfish will, 
To conquer passion with a mild control." 

V E. M. 



CONTENTS 









Page 


The Boogy Man i 


The Quarrel 






3 


Jef McCrea .... 






6 


Whippoorwill ..... 






7 


The Woolly Worm . 






9 


How to Burn a Heap 






12 


Wished I Were a Big Boy 






13 


An Evening Lullaby 






i5 


The Rainbow .... 






16 


The Bumble Bee ... 






i7 


You'd Better Mind Your P's and Q 


>'s 




18 


The Pouting Girl .... 






*9 


Mamma is Tired 






20 


The Two Harps 






21 


Little Coo .... 






, 22 


Arms 






• 2 3 


The Two Travelers 






• 2 3 


The Afterglow 






24 


When We Were Boys 






• 25 


Wilda and Hilda . 






. 26 


Think of Me Once in Awhile Littl 


e Bo 


y 


. 27 


Enigma 






. 28 


His Beneficence 






. 29 


When Granny Puts Her Nightcap 


On 




• 3° 


The Lap of Luxury 






. 3i 


Sis 






32 


Questions .... 






. 33 


Hello, Little Boy . 






- 34 



Vll 



Song, Little Silver Locks 

The Old Elm Tree 

A Little Mouse Lived In a Cocoa Shell 

The Hoosier on Dress . 

Little Bill , , 

The Butcherman 

When the Lamps are Lit 

Under the Chandelier 

To-day 

Little Topsey Turvey 
Jingle Jingle to Jingle Town . 
Don't Cry, Little Girl . 
Little Mattie .... 
Take Care, Little Fellow 
Skyward . . 

Beautiful Blennerhasset Island 
Sweet Memories 

Wishes 

My Thoughts Go Wandering Back to Home 
Little Princess Tip-toe . 



Page 
35 
3<> 

37 
38 

39 
40 

42 
42 
43 
44 

45 
46 

48 

49 

5o 
5° 
5o 
5i 
52 
54 



via 



Lyrics of Childhood 



THE BOOGY MAN. 

WHEN Tot an' Mirt an' I 
All went to play, 
Up in the barn loft 

There with cousin May, 
We scared up a Boogy Man 

In the clover hay. 
Granny heF her finger up 

An said, " you'd better mind, 
Up in the hay loft 

Sumpin you 'u'd find ; " 
Thought I was scary like 
An hollered out, 
" Nan, 
Nan, 
Nan, 
You'd better watch yourse'f, 
Or you'll see a Boogy Man ! " 

Up on the gran'ry top 

We saw the cutest thing, 
A great big binder there 

With arms, and a string 
An' a funny rake 'ith teeth 

Went, " ting-a-ling-a-ting," 
An' a drill an' a fannin' mill, 

(Big noisy thing) 
An' the children all a laughin' 

An' me in the swing, — 
All a whoopin' an' a runnin' 

Around in a ring ; 
An' Granny kep' a hollerin' 
" Nan, 
Nan, 
Nan, 
You'd better watch yourse'f 
Or you'll see a Boogy Man ! " 
i 



But I kind o' sort o' thought 

'At Granny was in fun, 
An' I kep' on a-swingin' 

An' I did'nt care to run ; 
For I could'nt see a thing 

'At any thing had done, 
An' I did'nt believe a thing 

In a ghost, not one, 
Till I heard a funny noise 

Away in the mow, 
Kind o' sort o' mooin' like 

Auntie's Jersey Cow, 
An' Granny kep' a hollerin', 
" Nan, 
Nan, 
Nan, 
You'd better watch yourse'f 

Or you'll see a Boogy Man ! " 

'Way in the barn loft 

Went Mirt an' May, 
Saw a big black thing 

A-hidin' in the hay, 
An' the children all a screamin' 

Till the Boogy rund away 
And climbed to a rafter 

An' tumbled on the hay, 
An' uncle John's fur robe 

Give ? im all away ; 
An' Granny said to John, 

" You can't fool Nan ; 
For she knows 'at you 

Are not 

A Boogy Man ! " 



THE QUARREL. 

ROB. 
"TAON'T cry now Sis, I didn't go 
^y To break your doll ; 

You mus 'nt tell on me ; for I 

Won't be allowed 
To toss my ball, 
* Cause, Ma '11 lock me in the room 
From John and Tom an ' Rover, 
And I can't have no fun with them 
A playin' andy over, 
You know, 
And so, 
You won't tell on me, will you, Nell ? " 

NELL. 

" Yes, I will ! You need 'nt coax, 

For you are bad ; 
Bess Dale won't play with me no more, 

You made her mad ; 
She does n't like to have bad boys 

To interfere, 
And you can just play by yourself 

Now, do you hear ? 
How many seats in our playhouse ? 

You'd never guess ; 
There's only two, just one for me, 

And one for Bess ; 
And you come in and run her out, 

And then she fell ; 
You broke my doll, and lost my ball, 

So I will tell ; 
You needn't pout an' hang your head 

And cry, " boo hoo ! " 
For you are bound to be locked up 

Now, Mister, too ! " 
3 



ROB. 

" If I am bad, why your bad too ; 
You need n't say 

I hurt Bess Dale and made her cry 
An ' run away ; 
An' I know what you and Bess did, too, 

When you were in the cellar; 
You broke a big jar, did n 't you ? 
When Ma comes home, I'll tell her, 
And Bess 
Won't guess 
What's wrong when you cry " boo " ! 

NELL. 

" O ! O ! now sir, if you just dare 
I'll tell another thing ; 

You lost the bucket in the well 
And broke a crock, 
And stopped the clock, 
And made it ring 
" Ting-a-ling-a-ting-ting, 
A-ling-ting," 
And O, I know a whole lot more, 
You opened up the cupboard door 
And let the chickens eat the bread, 
And broke the plaster overhead, 
And took a lump of sugar, too ; 
O ! O ! now sir 
If you 

Just only knew 
What Ma '11 do, 
When I tell that ! " 



ROB. 

" I s'pose you think 'at I'm afraid 

To see my Ma ; 
Well, you'll be just as 'fraid to-night 

To see your Pa 
When he finds out you broke his whip, 
You need n't pucker up your lip 

And say 'twas me, 

Because I'll be 
Right there to say 'twas you ; 
I'd like to know now, what you'll do 

When I tell that." 

NELL. 

" You broke Pa's whip, say did n't you 
As much as I ? 
An' when you hit me on the back 

I wouldn't cry ; 
That made you mad you bad, bad boy, 

And O ! you know 
Pa's whip just twisted in my hand, 

If you'd let go 
It wouldn't now be broke in two, 

And Rob you know 

I'm just in fun ; 
We'll both be good when Ma and Pa 

Comes home, an' run 

An' laugh an' play 

An' I won't say 

One thing you've done, 
And you may ride my pony, Rob, 

And we will go away 
Out in the woods for chestnuts, too, 

An' Bess '11 come and play 

With us 

An' I won't tell." 



H 



JEF McCREA. 

AVE you heard of Jef McCrea, sir ? 

If you listen I will tell 
'Bout his great big locomotive, 

With its pretty silver bell. 



Everything was kept a shining 

'Round that engin' you may know ; 

"Taint because Jef run it either 
That I am a sayin' so. 

When we lived at Manning Station, 

Jef, why he was engineer, 
Running on the No. 20, 

Brave as any can-nun-eer. 

One day met him at the station, 
Asked to have a little ride ; 

In his arms he took me gently, 
Placed me on the seat inside. 

Pulled the throttle, whispered, saying, 
" You may go a half a mile 

To the switch above the station," 
Turned he to me with a smile, 

Stroked my ringlets mamma twisted 

* Fore I left her all alone 
Singing, " Tell 'em that you saw me," 

In a sad an' solemn tone. 

In a minute I was thinking 

How uneasy ma would be, 
If she knew I was a riding 

In the cab with Jef McCrea. 

6 



No ; it was n't Jef's fault either 
1 Cause I coaxed him every day, 

Till that morning, last he could n't 
Turn his " Curly Head " away. 

Round the curve dashed No. 40, 
Singing o'er the trembling rail, 

Then he pressed me to his bosom, 
Saw his face was ashy pale. 

Like a flash and all was over, 
Smothered in the hissing steam, 

Jef lay dead, at home I wakened 
From an awful troubled dream. 

When the solgers were a marching, 
Tearful, to the cemet'ry ; 

Yesterday I strewed some posies 
On the grave of Jef McCrea. 



WHIP-POOR-WILL. 

WHIP — poor — will, 
Whip — whip — poor — will 
You'd better never try it, 
Because my Papa, he 
Don't 'low such wicked birds 

To talk so cross to me, 
When I have learned my lessons 

And helped my sister Nell 

To draw her maps and cipher, 

To rock the crib and spell. 

7 



Why, now, when comes the twilight, 

The woods are dark and still, 
Although I never see you, 

You want to whip " poor Will." 
I s'pose you have much pity 

The way you sing it too, 
I'm sure the mournin' raincrow 

Is not so bad as you ; 
For every night I heard you, 

And ev'ry night I say, 
" As long as you keep hollerin* 

I wished you'd fly away." 

Whip — poor — will, 

Whip — whip — poor — will" 
I wished you'd call me Willie ; 

For mamma calls me that, 
And all the harvest workers 

'Way out on Wilson's flat; 
For when I carry water 

They pat me on the head 
And call me little Willie boy 

An' never Will instead. 



My mamma never whips me, 

And uncle George, said he 
When home from Philadelphia, 

" Come sit upon my knee." 
An' then he told a story 

About the whip-poor-wills 
That every night were scolding 

Among the cedar hills, 
And how they kept him dreaming, 

About a little child 
Lost way out on the mountains 

Among the cedars wild. 

8 



" Whip — poor — will, 

Whip — whip — poor — will ; " 
" They'd better never mind it " 

Is what aunt Katy said, 
And uncle George won't J low it, 

And so won't uncle Fred. 
I'm pretty sure our teacher 

W T ould never hear to that, 
Nor the men I carry water to 

Way out on Wilson's Flat. 

I guess I am a good boy, 

An* never fret an' tease, 
Run 'round at nights an' holler 

An' do just as I please ; 
Because I have a mamma 

An' papa that are good, 
An' help 'em night an' mornin' 

To chop the kindling wood ; 
Although it kind o' 'noys me 

That sound among the hills, 
I guess there ain't no danger 

In the noisy whip-poor-wills. 



THE WOOLLY WORM. 



w 



HO built your fires last winter 
To keep you snug and warm, 

An' tucked you in a blanket, 
And shielded you from harm ? 



Who made your little hammock 
And wove it in and out, 

With just the finest satin 
So downy like and stout ? 

9 



And when the big icicles 
Were hanging on the roof, 

Who slept through all the winter 
In a cozy little woof ? 

'Twas you ; and how'd I know it ? 

Because our teacher said, 
When comes the wintry weather 

You'd cover up your head. 

And now your sleep is over, 
I like to see you squirm, 

Wooly, wooly, wooly, 
Little wooly worm. 

It must be very tiresome 

Away up in the trees, 
Among the bugs and spiders, 

I thought you'd surely freeze, 

All crumpled in a basket 
And hanging by a thread ; 

'Twas round like auntie's thimble, 
"Would go inside," she said. 

While all the birds were singing 
And everything was bright, 

You wakened up one morning 
And crept out in the light. 

The spider cast his anchor, 

The snail crawled from his shed, 

The big black beetle scrambled 
From out his wintry bed. 

10 



And they are just as happy 
As you when e'er you squirm, 

Wooly, wooly, wooly, 
Little wooly worm. 

I wonder little wooly 

If you are not afraid 
To creep out from the rushes, 

And leave the forest shade ? 

The big black birds are waiting, 

(Big yaller hammers too) 
You'd better watch the sparrows 

Or they'll gobble you. 

The robin and the finches 

Are out upon the wing ; 
But don't forget it wooly, 

The sparrow now, is king. 

He takes the farmer's raisings, 
And scratches in the ground ; 

And all the other songsters 
He chases 'round and 'round. 

Big black crows are cawing, 
The hawk is screaming too ; 

I wonder little wooly 
If they are after you ? 

O, no ; they fear the sparrows, 

Who'll ketch you while you squirm, 

Wooly, wooly, wooly, 
Little wooly worm. 



II 

L.ofC. 



HOW TO BURN A HEAP. 

DID you ever burn a heap 
When the moon was hid, 
While the stars were all asleep, 
And the katydid 
Sang around the blazing fire ? 

I would like to show 
All the little boys and girls, 
If they'd like to know, 
How to burn a heap. 

When the wind is blowing mild, 

This is how you do : 
Rake a heap of leaves and grass, 

And the blaze renew 
With a stick of yellow pine ; 

Get a knotty chunk, 
When it blazes pretty well, 

Take a piece of punk, 

Then you blow the fire. 

O, so careful you must be ; 

For the spark '11 fly, 
Snap and sparkle in the air, 

Maybe hit your eye ; 
Watch your curls and eyebrows too, 

If the wind does blow ; 
While the fire is rising high, 

And your cheeks aglow, 

Never mind the smoke. 

Blaze '11 kiss you if it can, 

Singe your winkers too ; 
And your face'll be as red 

As a cinder too ; 

12 



An' the smoke '11 bring the tears 
Quicker than a wink, 

And before the heap is burnt, 
You'll want a drink, 
While you burn a heap. 

When the heap is burning nice, 

Leave the woods and go 
Way out on the hills and see 

How the fire does glow. 
It's a very pretty sight 

When the stars are hid, 
And the moon is out of sight 

And the katydid 

Chirrups in the night. 

When the center is burnt out 

Then you throw it in ; 
If you wipe the tears away, 

Then you black your chin. 
It is fun to burn a heap, 

If you do it right 
When the whip-poor-wills are out 

Singing in the night. 



WISHED I WERE A BIG BOY. 



w 



ISHED I were a big boy 
Like Uncle John and Fred ; 

I'd show you how to skate 
And ride a jumper sled. 



And I would make a snowman 

High up like a tree, 
Much bigger 'an any jiant 

'At ever you did see. 
13 



An' when the winter's over, 

I'd show you in the spring 
How to take a clothesline, 

And make a great big swing. 

I wished I were a big boy 

You would n't see me here ; 
I'd be a Rob'si'n Crusoe, 

Or a sailor without fear. 

An' hunt out West for injuns 

An' I would kill a deer, 
An' go 'way out in Texas 

To ketch a big wild steer. 

Wight by the horns I'd hold him, 

For he could n't get away, 
Wish'd I were a big boy, 

I'll show you how some day. 

Wish'd I were a big boy 

A blacksmith I'd like to be, 
And O, a good bit better 

Than a sailor out at sea. 

I'll make the bellows rattle 

And shoe in a smoky room ; 
And make the hammers say 

" Ping ! ping ! " and the anvil, "boom ! 

Wished I were a big boy 

I would n't then be teased, 
And Ma would never scold me ; 

For she'd be O, so pleased, 
If I were stout an' manly 

And dressed up with a tile, 

14 



A bowin' 'round an' 'pearin 
With a broad up in G smile 

And owned a big car-line 
A half a hundred mile ; 

I 'xpect I'd be a feelin' 
Like gettin' up some style. 

If I were just a big boy 
Like Uncle John and Fred, 

And owned a team of horses 
A pony and a sled, 

I'd show the city fellers 
How to make a spread ; 

Wished I were a big boy 
Like Uncle John and Fred. 



AN EVENING LULLABY. 

THE day is done and in the west 
The afterglow is gleaming, 
And sweet the nestlings are at rest 
'Neath downy wings are dreaming, 
The owl hoots in the thicket drear, 

In the elm his vigils keeping, 
While mother sings in tones so clear 
And baby lies half sleeping : 
Sleep, sleep, gently sleep, 
While the owls their vigils keep, 
Idly dreaming, 
Moonbeams gleaming, 
While my baby lies asleep. 



15 



The soothing notes in cadence fall, 

And vesper bells are ringing. 
Dear Mamma sings a madrigal 

While baby's arms are clinging. 
Nocturnal winds are howling drear, 

And rippling waves are flowing, 
Still Mamma sings to baby dear 
With rapture overflowing : 
Sleep, sleep, gently sleep 
While the stars from heaven peep, 
Wake not dearie, 
You are weary, 
Sleep my baby, gently sleep. 



THE RAINBOW. 

{From The German Of Schiller), 

ABRIDGE of pearl is built 
High o'er a crystal tarn ; 
In a moment it appears, 
High in the sky she's born. 

The ships with highest masts 
Beneath her form doth steer ; 

No man e'er crossed that bow, 
It runs when you go near. 

'Twas made of misty showers 

And disappears on high, 
Now speak, whence came the bridge ? 

Who set it in the sky ? 



16 



THE BUMBLE BEE. 

BUMBLE, bumble, bumble bee, 
Built a nest in the root of a tree ; 
Lizzie and Tot and Alice and May 
Drove Mr. Bumble Bee away. 
Next day Bumble Bee came back 
Bringing a wife in yellow and black, 
They hummed and buzzed in the greatest glee, 
And settled down in the root of a tree, 
Bizz, 

Bizz, 

Zip! 

Bumble, bumble, bumble, bumble bee, 
Soon has a family in the tree, 
Lizzie and Tot and Alice and May 
Are going to drive them off some day ; 
Soon little bumble bees hatch out 
And the little girls run to the tree with a shout 
And " boom ! boom ! boom ! " comes bumble bee 
With Mrs. Bumble out of the tree 
Bizz, 

Bizz, 

Zip! 

They sting little Tot, and she cries " O ! " 
And Uncle Jake runs and drops his hoe, 
And hides wee Tot and May in the row. 
The little girls never sigh or frown, 
While the little bumble bees fly down 
And creep all over ' Lizabeth's gown ; 
For the little bumbles can not sting, 
All they care is to hum and sing : 
Bizz, 

Bizz, 

Zip ! 

17 



T 



YOU'D BETTER MIND YOUR 
P'S AND Q'S. 

OU 'D better mind your P's and Q's 

For mamma says its best 
For children not to talk too much, 
And be a reg'lar pest. 
And Granny says it isn't nice 
For girls to romp and race, 
Like gypsies with their fairy locks 

All down about their face, 
A whoopin ' an ' a-hollerin' 
All 'round about the place. 

If I were you I would n't be 

So very, very bad, 
A cryin' an' a poutin' 

An' making Aunty sad. 

I mind the time when I was cross 

An ' Papa often said, 
He wished ' at ma u'd whip me good 

An' send me off to bed, 
Where the Boogy Man an' everything 

Is sure to pop. his head. 

But now I mind my P's and Q's 

An ' cousin Alice too, 
Who tells me I am very bad 

To frown and holler " boo ! " 
When ev'ry thing is out of gear 

An ' not in proper place, 
An ' my whistle gets a frog, 

And I have a dirty face, 
As black as Lizzie's ribbon there 
In the b'uro case. 



First thing a feller thinks 

When a gettin' bad 
Might need the leather strap 

Or the hick'ry gad, 
That's why you ought to mind 

When you're put to bed, 
Just be a good girl 

And do as Granny said ; 
"Alius mind your P's and Q's 

An' cover up your head." 



THE POUTING GIRL. 



i 



S'POSE you think like Auntie 
Who tells me every day, 

That I should be a good girl 
And never frown at play, 

And cry when little cousin 
Comes to our house to stay. 

I s'pose that it is proper, 

But did you ever find 
A girl who would n't pout a bit? 

Was always good and kind 
And never thought of saying 

" You'd better never mind." 

Well, sometimes when it's raining 

I get so awful vexed 
At John who breaks my dollies, 

He makes me so perplexed 
I jest go right to cryin' 

An' wonder what comes next. 

19 



An* when the cryin's over 

My eyes are nearly blind, 
John laughs behind the sofa 

An' Ma says, " never mind" 
While I cry worse an' ever 
An' tear the winder blind. 

An' it comes down a-thumpin' 
Upon the parlor floor, 

It makes the worstest racket 
Pa runs into the door, 

And sends me to the kitchen 
An' I cry more an' more. 

Ma scolds and blames my Papa 
For whippin' me an' I, 

Jest listen to 'em talking 
And then forget to cry, 

An' John an' I together 
Runs out an' plays " I spy." 



MAMMA I'S TIRED. 



D 



IMLY falls the twilight 

Over hill and lea, 
And a mother hearkens 

To her daughters three. 



" Mamma are you weary ? " 
Whispers little May 

As the lamplight glitters 
On her locks of gray. 

20 



A 



And the mother answers 
With a pleasant smile, 

"Only just a little, 
I will rest a while." 

Softly whispers Milly, 

" Put your books away ; 

You are tired dear mamma, 
I am tired of play." 

Softly whispers Nettie 

Mother's heart to cheer, 

" Rest to-night dear mamma, 
You are tired my dear." 

Mamma's heart is happy 
When her work is done ; 

For her little daughters' 
Sympathy hath won. 



THE TWO HARPS. 

HARPER played a pleasing tune 
And when 'twas finished, spoke a maid; 
" Had I an instrument," she said, 

1 Then I with minstrels might commune.' 



" Thou hast a sweeter harp than mine, 
We hearken, lady, to thy word; 
Fair poetess naught is there heard, 
From instrument that's so divine. 

" I play my harp amid the throng 

And cheer the poor, the rich, the wise, 
Thy fancy mounts up to the skies 
Thou cheer'st the world with Harp of song. 

21 



LITTLE COO. 

PAPA'S darling is little Coo ; 
His cheeks are red and his eyes are blue ; 
He sits to-night in his little chair 
While mamma brushes his flaxen hair 
And sings to Coo a tender strain 
And baby coos and coos again. 
Laugh little Coo 
You must not cry ; 
While in mamma's 
Arms you lie ; 
Coo my child the livelong day 
Coo little darling, 

Coo. coo, coo, 



Mamma's darling is little Coo 
With eyes as bright as the morning dew ; 
The soft wind ruffles his silver hair, 
While he sits and coos in his little chair, 
Sweet to mother the child doth cling, 
While mamma and papa together sing : 

Sleep little Coo 

Till break of day ; 

Wake little darling 

When you may 
Then a song we'll sing to you 

Coo little darling 

Coo, coo, coo. 



22 



ARMS. 

EVERY shield 
In time will yield, 
Tho' hammered round 
With Vulcan's pound, 
Every heart 
Receives a dart; 
Tho' clad with steel, 
Strong pangs must feel. 

Each city wall 
Some day will fall ; 
Time rules o'er all. 
Things of spice 
Go, in a trice ; 
But he's armed thrice 
Who hath the price. 



THE TWO TRAVELERS. 



T 



WO weary travelers met one night 
While journeying on their way ; 

And from their steeds they did alight; 
For both had gone astray. 



An orient city each had sought 

From morning until eve ; 
And as the journey came to naught, 

Each did his fate aggrieve. 

One spake, " We must not tarry here ; 

For friends will mourn us dead ; 
The narrow path to right I fear 

Is not for one to tread." 



The other, " Narrow is the way 

Which leadeth unto life ; 
Haste now ! Pursue ! do not delay ; 

For broad's the way to strife." 

One veered his steed unto the left 

A weary road to find ; 
By all his friends was e'er bereft ; 

For he to Truth was blind. 

The other steered unto right 
And e'er the smiling day, 

The city found with Rest and Light, 
With friends to live for aye. 

There are two paths my little ones 
In life which you may go, 

'Tis best to choose the wisest plan 
And Truth the way will show. 



THE AFTERGLOW. 

THE twilight now is falling 
O'er hill, the vale and lea ; 
The shepherds are out calling 
While the flocks skip merrily. 

The meadow brook is glinting 
With glances of the moon ; 

And bright the sun is tinting 
The clouds with red festoon. 

The evening bells are ringing 
In the little country town ; 

The birds have ceased their singing 

In the treetop sere and brown. 

24 



And out upon the ocean 
The sun gleams on the sail 

Of a ship which has no motion, 
Last night was in a gale. 

And still the shadows lengthen 
Till the afterglow is done ; 

Sweet rest, the toilers strengthen, 
Till the rising of the sun. 



WHEN WE WERE BOYS. 



i 



WANDERED by the stream to-day, 
And thought of all the joys 

That did our childish cares allay 
When we were romping boys. 



In whirls of light I saw the leaves 

Descend to browning heaps, 
And faded, crisp as yellow sheaves 

The upland farmer reaps. 

I heard the clanging of the hoofs 

And strangers were they all 
Who drove the panting steed aloof 

The boiling waterfall. 

They halted where I mused alone 

Beside the little brook 
Where oft from mother I had gone 

With fishing rod and hook. 

Although they smiled and questioned me 

It seemed so very strange 
I could not laugh as they in glee, 

And cheerful words exchange. 

25 



Now perished are the pretty flowers 

That grew upon the hill 
Which I in idle summer hours 

So cherished with a will. 

They once were our delight, but now 
The flowers and hemlock trees 

No more do grace the hillock's brow 
The valley or the leas. 

Where once a leafy forest smiled 
The fire with heated breath 

Hath swept the rugged heather wild, 
The rose-bay droops in death. 

And thus to-day I mused alone, 
While O, I longed to hear 

The voices of my playmates gone, 
And friends I loved so dear. 



T 



WILDA AND HILDA. 

WO little blossoms grew on a tree, 

Rocked by the breeze and kissed by the 
sun ; 
I plucked them both, they are faded now, 
And I know not which was the brighter 
one. 



Two little snowflakes fell to the earth, 

They are melted now by the glowing sun ; 

But the winged pixies of sky and air 

Ne'er told me which was the fairest one. 

26 



Two little sisters grow side by side, 

As the orchard blossoms kissed by the sun ; 

And one is Wilda, the other Hilda, 
But tell me which is the fairest one ? 

Ask of the fairies that flit in the trees 
And they will tell you the fairest one, 

If they know who's Wilda, and who is Hilda 
As they dance about in the glowing sun ? 



A 



THINK OF ME ONCE IN 
AWHILE, LITTLE BOY. 

RE you going to leave us so soon little 
boy ? 

I fear we shall miss you to-day ; 
And will you not think of me once in awhile, 

When you, little boy, are away ? 



And you must remember the romps that we had, 
And don't you forget of the games, little lad 

We played in the past time and all of the joy, 
O, think of me once in awhile, little boy. 

O, think of me once in awhile, little boy, 
You came with a sweet sunny smile ; 

And now you are going to leave us to-day 
O, think of me once in awhile. 

Your cheek is as red as the rose on the lea, 

May it never be blanched when you sail o'er 
the sea 
To the land of the vine, which your brothers 
enjoy, 
O, think of me once in awhile little boy. 

27 



I know you are tired of your toys little boy, 

So now you may put them away ; 
Lock them up in the little red desk in the room, 

Tell mamma you're tired of play. 

And will you remember what I have to say, 
My dear little boy, when you are away ? 

Ev'ry naughty emotion I wish you destroy, 
And think of me once in awhile little boy. 

Farewell, little boy it seems you must go, 

Just think of me once in awhile ; 
You are so reluctant to start, but I see 

In your sweet little face a bright smile. 

May the dreams of thy youth be of purest 
delight, 

And thy manner be ever so true and polite, 
And I pray that few cares will come to annoy 

Thy bright little spirit, my dear little boy. 



ENIGMA. 

RIFE is the morning of the poet's fame, 
Noteworthy men begin their lives as free ; 
Robin and merle harmonious notes proclaim, 
And in their carols seem to vie with thee. 
A moon-lit night I met thee in a dream 

Where greening trees were tipped with silver 
dew ; 
By nature's pulse the glinting little stream 

Did e'er sing sweetly there to me, to you. 
We saw the fabled river and its gold 
That poets famed Pactolus long ago ; 
28 



With songs sincere which are becoming old, 
In our age now those verses do not grow. 

Sing poet, sing, how sweet it is to sing 

Of mead and trees, with gentle thoughts of 
spring. 



Note — The hidden name in the above sonnet may be found 
by spelling the first letter in the first line with the second 



down, ending in the fourteenth line. 



HIS BENEFICENCE. 

BENEFICENCE of God the world doth tell ; 
Where'er we turn our eyes we do behold 
The grasses green and crystal tides that swell 
In wood and vale, O, wonders to behold. 
O'er all His works His goodness doth extend, 
Toward every rank His mercies are displayed ; 
The sun, the moon, and stars their beauty send, 
And all the earth of life and light is made. 
His wisdom in the meanest flower is seen, 
The brooklet sings His praise and dripping rain 
Which falls upon the pastures sweet and green, 
Rejoice with all the hills in sweet refrain ; 
He framed the universe that we might live 
And sweetest songs of praise to Him might give. 



29 



WHEN GRANNY PUTS HER 
NIGHTCAP ON. 



w 



HEN Granny puts her nightcap on 
We chat with her, and so 
She tells us fairy stories too, 

Just like we did n't know 
There are no fairies in the world ; 

She can't fool me and Jim, 
But Ikey believes such awful stuff 
Her stories ketches him. 

Now some night when he goes to bed 
He'll think of all 'at granny said, 

And go a screamin' thro' the hall, 
And slide clear down the banisters 

'An scare the nurse, his big sisters 
'Nd Pa 'nd Ma and me and all. 

Might think there's wigglers in the trees 

And that the paper on the wall 
Has got a great big awful face 

With horns like cattle in the stall. 
When Granny puts 'er nightcap on 

We know its going to rain ; 
For 'neath her chin she ties a bow 

And then she tells us plain 
That it's November month and time 

For children to stay in, 
To keep our shoes as dry 's we can 

Because the soles are thin. 

And it is time our summer shoes 

Were being cast aside, 
And time for bran new boots to wear 

With heavy soles supplied ; 
For when the ice is on the ground 

Of course we'll have a slide. 

30 



When Granny puts 'er nightcap on 

She's so pertickler 'bout our gear, 
She ties a hood around my neck 

And calls fer John to " Come right here !" 
And John minds Granny, comes along, 

He whimpers tho', says " It's a sin 
'Cause playin' marvel in the mud 

Is best and can't stay in." 

When Granny puts her nightcap on 

Some day we'll drop a tear 
When she is resting in her bed 

And with her hands she moves the spread, 
And drops it motionless 

Some day too soon I fear. 



THE LAP OF LUXURY. 



"S 



EDITION lies within the lap 

Of Luxury," 'tis said ; 
But puss thinks 'tis a grave mistake 

When she with milk is fed. 

Or when into the larder bold, 
With cautious step she goes, 

To poke into the snowy cream 
Her pinkish little nose. 



" The lap of Luxury, O, dear 
For me 'tis very fine 
When a dish of milk's before me 
And I begin to dine." 

31 



s 



sis. 

IS is this an' Sis is that 

And Sis is oft the tother ; 
Sis thinks she knows about as much 

As me and Pa an* Mother 
All together. 

When Pa an' sister Min comes home 
They give her all the candy, 

An* then she laughs an' looks at me 
An' says: " Aint I a dandy ? " 
Then I get cross. 

I mus 'nt cry the leastest bit 
When Sis takes up the ashes 

An' spills 'em on my toys an* things, 
Or breaks my cart to smashes. 

But ef her playhouse I go in 
An' rattle down the dishes, 

She runs me out with clubs and stones 
An' does jes' what she wishes, 
But I don't care. 

One time I hid her china doll 
Where she could hardly find it, 

An' when she found it in the trunk 
She laughed and did n't mind it. 

But when I nailed it to a tree 
Out in the orchard clover ; 
She cried an' took a stick to me 
And whipped me sound all over. 
But I don't care, 
She can't hurt me. 

32 



She thinks because I am a boy 
And she a little smaller, 

That I must mind her all the time, 
Be whipped an' never holler. 

But Ma says I'm too big to cry 

And tease my little sister, 
That ef I mind her after while 
The boys '11 call me Mister ; 
Then 
I'll 

Crow ! 



QUESTIONS. 

NETTY. 

WHO made the moon so round and white ? 
The little stars that shine at night ? 
And why, mamma, do the cool winds blow ? 
And rains come down and the rivers flow ? 

MOTHER, 

God made the stars and moon so white, 
And the sun my child that giveth light, 
The v/inds which blow and the rains that fall, 
He made dear Nettie, and rules o'er all. 

FANNY. 

Did He make the sea and the clear blue sky ? 
The rainbow, too, that shines on high ? 
The golden sheaves the farmers glean ? 
And great tall trees and grasses green ? 

MOTHER. 

Yes, Fanny, God made the grass to grow, 
He made the sky and the bright rainbow, 
The golden sheaves in the uplands wild, 
And the great tall trees in the woods, my child. 

33 



ALL. 



Now shall we know to sing His praise 
Who night and day the world surveys ; 
Supplies our wants with fostering hand, 
And sheweth mercy o'er all the land. 



HELLO, LITTLE BOY. 

HELLO, little boy 
With the bright sparkling eyes, 
Come sit on my knee, here remain 
To hear the old story about Santa Claus. 
I have seen you before, it is plain ; 
For sweetly you smile and look at me so, 
O, yes, I have met you before ah, I know 
Hello, little boy, 
Hello ! 



Do you hear little boy 
The wind at the pane ? 
I wonder what Santa '11 do, 

If the storm drifts the snow high over the fence, 
O, how will he ever get through ? 
I'm sure I don't know, 
Say, do you ? 

I see little boy 
You are waiting for him, 
I think he will be here to-night ; 
Just hang up your stockings and creep into bed, 
And Santa will make it all right. 
You can't hear him come down the chimney O, 
no ; 

34 



And the horns and the whistles he brings he 
won't blow. 
For he is so tricky 
You know. 

Good night, little boy, 
You must keep your eyes shut 
If Papa gets up in the night 
To see if old Santa has brought 'round again 
Some toys for the children's delight. 
And if you see Mamma put toys on the tree, 
O, don't let them know that you hear or you see 
And laugh out and giggle 
"Tee-hee." 



O 



LITTLE SILVER LOCKS. 

NE bright spring morning as the sun 
Its daily course had just begun, 
A happy little maid of four 
Had wandered from the kitchen door, 
And softly down the shady street 
She pattered with her little feet. 

CHORUS 

Patter, patter, little feet, 
Going down the shady street, 
Cheeks of roses, teeth of pearl, 
Mamma's little fairy girl. 

Her chubby little hands she raised 
And greeted all the folks who gazed. 
Her silver locks streamed in the wind ; 
For 'round her form no cloak was pinned, 
But carried o'er her little head 
Her Mamma's parasol instead. 

35 



CHORUS. 
Patter, patter, little feet, etc. 

A minister there chanced to meet 
The little maid upon the street 
And queried : " Who are you my child ? " 
The little one looked up and smiled. 
"If you would know my name is Pearl 
And I am Mamma's little girl," 

CHORUS. 
Patter, patter, little feet, etc. 



THE OLD ELM TREE. 



H 



OW dear to me is the old elm tree 
That stands by the roadside lone ; 

With arms outstretched it talks to me 
Of years of care that are gone. 



Long years ago my mother mused there 

Under the old elm tree ; 
As a May-queen crowned with roses fair 

With brothers and sisters played she. 

The grass is green 'neath the old elm tree 
Where ivies their tendrils twine ; 

O mother, it beckons in vain to thee. 
The old elm tree thy shrine. 

O sing to me of the stately tree 

Ye assuasive airs of morn, 
While lambkins skip in the meadows free, 

And the throstle pipes in the corn. 

36 



Awake into music the drooping sprays. 

Sweep gently the leafy lyre, 
As the Muse who sang in olden days. 

The souls of kings to inspire. 

I love to sing of the old tree now ; 

For mother has gone away, 
Sweet memories haunt the shady bough 

Of the dear old elm to-day. 



A LITTLE MOUSE LIVED IN 
A COCOA SHELL. 



o 



NCE there lived a little mouse 
In a pretty little house, 
Had a little nest as cute as cute 
could be ; 
And he lived on cheese and bread, 
Scraps that Towser left when fed, 
And no other mice fared half as well 
as he. 

Said a little country mouse 

" May I come into your house ? " 

" No ; you sha'n't Sir ; for the truth to you 
I'll tell 
You are not as good as me ; 
For you can't afford it, see ? 

To live within a little cocoa shell." 

Said the little country mouse, 

" Sorrow will come into your house ; 

For Towser said to me the other day, 
If I'd send to him a rat, 
He would surely bring a cat 

To dine on you whenever I should say." 

37 



So the little city mouse 
Living in his stylish house, 

Ne'er heeded what his brother mouse did 
say, 
Till at last there came a rat, 
And old Towser brought a cat, 

Which stole him from his cocoa house 
away. 



THE HOOSIER ON DRESS. 



i 



'AINT pertickler like some air 
The way I dress you know ; 

' It ain't the close that makes the man," 
I learnt that long ago. 



As Grandpa ust to tell me 

Wen I wuz a boy, 
A feller alius feelsthe best 

Drest up in cord'roy. 

It'll jes' be sump'in funny 

Ef you ketch 'im on the street, 

'Cept Sund'y or Memor'al Day 
In finery so neat. 

It ain't the ones thet dresses best 
Thet gets the most to do ; 

Fer Lincoln wuz a " rail-splitter" 
And went to Congress, too. 

F'r instance, Horace Greeley, why 

He never dressed at all 
Like people thought he ought to 

When he made a social call. 

38 



They say he made more jokes an* fun 

Than any in the crowd, 
Because he did n't have the turn 

Of alius bein' proud. 

It ain't the close thet makes the man 
Like some they think it is, 

Its jes' the way you act in 'em 
That takes the eye o' Liz. 



LITTLE BILL. 

{WAIT to-night fo' little Bill, 
But he done come no mo' to me, 
De sun is goin' down de hill, 
My eyes wiv tea's begin to fill ; 
Fo' little Bill I can not see, 
Ain' no little boy to take my han' 
In his, " Papa, I'm yo' little man," 
An' when I come to home he say, 
" Papa yo' wuk to ha'd to-day." 

I laf'd right out an' he laf too 

When he sho'd his arms so big and strong, 

" I want to wuk in de mine wiv you " 

Next day he coaxed to go along, 

Now de tea's dey come and 'gi'me pain, 

Befo' he went I laf in glee 

An took my little boy on my knee, 

But little Bill nebber come home again. 

He druv de mule in de " Wildcat Den. " 
Where the slate rattled down on de rail below, 
But de danger dare little Bill did n 't know, 
When de rats squealed out like de pig in de pen ; 

39 



I heard de fall and de brakeman shout, 
My little boy cried an de light went out, 
But de light ob his spirit is shinin ' on high, 
An ' he waits up dare fo ' me by an' by. 

My ha 't am a stone when I go to bed, 
My ha 't am a stone when I wuk by day, 
An ' all dat I hea ' de dull tools say 
When I wuk alone — " Little Bill is dead." 
De snow falls down on his little grave, 
De sleet sifts t 'ro ' de cedar trees, 
An' out on a pole in de cole cole breeze 
Little Bill's shirt fo ' a scare crow waves. 

What do I fin ' in de bur ' o drawer ? 
A faded jacket and " tick-tack-spool," 
A little red kite ' n measur 'n rule, 
But little Bill ain't comin' hea' no more 
To spin his top an' his kite to fly, 
Little Bill's home is in de sky, 
Little Bill's crossed to de odda shore 
Da' to dwell wid de angels free, 
An' now little Bill's a-waitin' fo' me. 



THE BUTCHERMAN. 



T 



HE butcherman comes to our house, 

He brings some little boys ; 
I take 'em to the orchard lot 
And show ' em all my toys. 



An' boost 'em up the oie plum tree 

' N tell 'em not to fall, 
An' fill their pockets full of plums 

And then they say, " That's all." 
40 



But when he brings a city Miss 

My sister's nearly wild 
A racin' up an' down the road 

With the little city child. 

Somehow Sis is so awful mean 

An' says she doesn't ' low 
Such boys as me join in the fun, 

I'll tell you anyhow, 

The city Miss don't care one bit 

But grins 'n looks at me, 
Ma hears a racket on the porch 

An' comes out doors to see. 

Sis pouts an' tells on me an' I 

Can't see a thing I've done, 
An' when the butcherman comes in 

Out to the lot they run. 

I listen to a lot of talk 

Grandma comes in and so 
She nods her head and looks at Pa, 

Says, " mus 'n't low your stock to go 

So cheap, " an ' then Pa winks an I 

Go to the field for Dan ; 
At last they make a bargain there 

Right with the butcherman. 

My banty rooster runs and hides 

Behind the gran ' ry chist, 
An ' when the rest are caught and tied, 

Pa says there is one missed. 

41 



Then hints about the little lambs 
How too they all must go, 

And sends me to the pastur' field 
To bring boss up, and so 

He takes our little pets away, 
Goes whistlin' down the lane ; 

Sis cries ; Ma says, " Hush dear." 
To all it's very plain 

The cruel, cruel butcherman 
Was at our house again. 



WHEN THE LAMPS ARE LIT. 

WHEN the lamps are lit in the village 
And the stars are lit in the sky 
And the owls go " Woo " in the forest 
And the bats begin to fly, 
There are sounds we hear in the thicket 

With rapture the soul doth fill, 
'Tis the song of the nightingale 

And the plaintive whip-poor-will, 
The cricket's hurdy gurdy 
And the little froggie's trill. 



UNDER THE CHANDELIER. 

GOOD NIGHT," 
Two children whisper to mother dear 
While she pauses to read 'neath the 
chandelier ; 
Her cares are banished and work is done ; 
42 



Two little children at set of sun 
Steal from the hallway up the stair, 
Just for a moment they linger there, 
Smile and whisper to Mamma with cheer, 
" Good night, Mamma, dear." 

" Good night 
Good night Mamma," their prayers are said, 
Two little voices are hushed in bed, 
While the nightingales in the forests sing 
And the big owls hoot and the bats on wing 
Are flying about in the stilly air, 
While Margie and Mattie are sleeping there ; 
For they have whispered to Mamma with 

cheer, 

"Good night Mamma dear." 



B 



TO-DAY. 

RAVELY do your duty now 
Ere to-morrow doth appear ; 

Make an earnest steadfast vow, 
And each heart thou shalt endear. 



'Tis your duty to begin, 

In the prime of life to sow 
Seeds of kindness, thou shalt win 
Back the heart of every foe. 

As the dew upon the flower 

With its radiant beams of light, 

Or the cedar of the bower, 

Crowned with sparkling gems of light, 

Or the lily of the field 

In its bright and pure array, 

So the heart that doth not yield, 
But acts with a will to-day. 

43 



LITTLE TOPSY TURVEY. 



L 



ITTLE Topsy Turvey 
Sits upon my knee. 

Brighter little curly head 
Did you ever see ? 



Laughing in the morning 
When the sun is bright, 

Waking when the song-birds 
Chirrup with delight. 

Mamma's little Fairy, 
Darling little sprite, 

Tosses little curly head 
Cooing all his might. 

Little flaxen ringlets 
Tossing in the breeze, 

Why is baby smiling, 
Tell me what he sees ? 



Little Topsy Turvey 
Sees a humming bee, 

Buzzing on the windowpane. 
Laughing now in glee. 

When did little baby 
Ever smile before ? 

At the great awakening, 
Smiles of God he wore. 



44 



JINGLE, JINGLE, TO JINGLE 
TOWN. 

GRANDPA hitches to the sleigh 
Old red Robin every day ; 
Off he scampers thro' the snow, 
Bells a-ringing as we go, 
Flakes a-flying thro' the air ; 
Grandpa whispers, " Boys, take care 
Not so rapid ; for I fear 
As Granny says, " The hoss'll skeer ; " 
Winks 'n nudges John again 
Then he tightens up the rein ; 
Bells air ringing right behin' 
" Goin' to pass us ? " 'N your min', 
Ole red Robin judges not, 
Quickens to a lively trot, 
Right ahead he races down 
Jingle, Jingle, to Jingle Town. 

Cracks the whip and off we go 
Bounding o'er the gleaming snow ; 
Not a bump to mar our ease 
Sailing in the morning breeze, 
Brightly shines the sun on high. 
Valleys gleaming as the sky, 
Gemmed serenely with the stars 
Ere morn leaves her gate ajar. 
Down the dale and o'er the hill 
Zephyrs skurry at their will. 
Voices answer at the mill 
Answer to the sleigh bell's trill, 
Sending thro' our veins a thrill, 
Every heart with joy they fill; 
And we laugh as we go down, 
Jingle, Jingle, to Jingle Town. 



45 



" Get up Robin," Grandpa cries, 
" We will give 'em a surprise." 
" Tell you 'tis this way with me 
When I drive out I like ter see 
Perliteness everywhere — 'tis well 
'Specially in a narrow dell ; 
With these fellers 'taint the case, 
They think it's smart to chase and race, 
And pass at every vacant place ; 
Then they brag about the gait 
Their hosses made, and pat old Kate 
For whoopin' up at sech a rate. 
Now w'ere goin' look-e here, 
We're a-beatin' never fear ; 

Horses prancin' in the rear 
Driver gettin' on his ear ; 
Fer ole Robin's comin' down 
Jingle, Jingle, to Jingle Town. 



DON'T CRY LITTLE GIRL. 

DON'T cry little girl 
They have wounded your heart I know 
And are causing your tears to flow 
And thy trouble is hard to bear 
(Sorrow, worry, and care). 
And thy tears I know are hard to dry, 
Never mind it child, 
Don't cry little girl 
Don't cry. 

4 6 



Don't cry little girl 
It isn't the jewels fine 
And costly ribbons they twine, 
Nor ever satin and lace 
Will give you the " highest place " 
When the trumpet is sounded here ; 
Hush little girl and dry your tear, 

Never mind it child, 

Don't cry little girl, 
Don't cry. 

Don't cry little girl 
There is hope in the world for you 
Tho' subtle the charms in view 
For the vain and lofty mind ; 
Don't weep little girl, be kind, 
Sorrow will flee away, 
And you'll be happy to-day, 

Never mind little child, 

Don't cry little girl, 
Don't cry. 

Don't cry little girl, 
It isn't the things you wear 
It's the sweet little earnest prayer 
That wins the world for you, 
And now will you dry your tear ? 
Do you hear little girl, do you hear ? 

Never mind dear child, 

Don't cry little girl, 
Don't cry. 



47 



LITTLE MATTIE. 

DID you hear the wildwood ringing ? 
Happy voices far away ; 
Merry children sweetly singing 
In the mellow wood to-day. 

Lightly tripping down the valley, 

Playmates hasting on before, 
Little Mattie stoops to dally 

'Neath a leafy sycamore. 

Moonbeams glisten on the mosses 
Hanging o'er the rugged ledge, 

Spume from upper falls embosses 
Drooping lilies in the sedge. 

Mattie sees the dimples waver 
In the bubbling mountain spring, 

Hears the bending branches quaver, 
While the autumn zephyrs ring. 

In his hollow darkened chamber, 
Sits the night-bird crooning low ; 

In the star-lit water gleaming, 
Sways the silver moon below. 

" O, the sand is bright with treasures, 

In the little river's bed." 
Whispers Mattie, " Here are treasures, 

Angels sent from worlds o'erhead." 

As a shining mirror hidden 

In the pool adown the hill, 
There the emulating waters, 

Still are flowing with a trill. 

4 8 



TAKE CARE, LITTLE FELLOW. 

TAKE care, little fellow, 
You'll stub your toe ; 
And if you don't mind 
You'll hardly know- 
It's done till it's done, 
It'll be so numb 

And it'll smart so ; 

Oh, Oh ! 
Take care, little fellow, 
You'll stub your toe. 

Take care little fellow 

There's thorns in the way, 
And just enough poison 

To hurt all day ; 
If the sharp jagger breaks 
O my goodness sakes ! 
The patience it takes ; 

And you'll cry, yes, I know 
O, Oh ! 

Take care little fellow 

You'll stub your toe. 

Take care little fellow 

You'll stub your toe ; 
And your mamma you know 

'LI just haft to blow 
Right on the bruised sore 
Till you won't cry no more ; 
O, Oh! 

Take care little fellow 

You'll stub your toe. 



49 



B 



SKYWARD. 

EHOLD, a lark soars in the air, 

Its wings are tipped with silver wed; 

And while it warbles, everywhere 

The humblest birds their songs renew. 



Thus few may climb to heights of fame 
As the lark that soars and sings on high ; 

While many for riches seek, — a name 
And dreaming, build castles in the sky. 



BEAUTIFUL BLENNERHASSETT 
ISLAND. 

BEAUTIFUL Blennerhassett 
Island in verdure dressed ; 
Softly the breezes whisper 
Over thy gentle breast. 
Beautiful, beautiful island 
Gem of the river bright 
Sleeping beneath the moonbeams, 

Waking in the sunlight. 
Beautiful, beautiful island 

Oft have I dreamed of thee, — 
Of thee, a gem as beautiful 
As any in orient sea. 



A 



SWEET MEMORIES. 

S sunlight to a gloomy day 
Or to the night a beam, 

So come sweet memories of old 
Like fancies in a dream. 
50 



I see the little cottage yet 

Beside the meadow stream, 
And hear the song-birds in the trees 

'Tis sweeter than a dream. 

The old crane creaks on rusty hinge, 
The floor is warped and bare, 

And through the darkened windows steal 
The sunlight and the air. 

The chipmunks scamper on the roof 

And noisy crickets call, 
The smiling andirons' silhouette 

Gleams on the pantry wall. 

My fancy loiters with the leaves 

That rustle on the floor, 
Descending from the poplar trees 

Before the cottage door. 

The cottage is deserted now 

Beside the meadow stream, 
While still come memories of old 

Like fancies in a dream. 



WISHES. 

WE hope each day 
For hidden things that seem to lie before 
us, 
And sometimes pine until the heart is sad 
Because the sun fails to shine brighter o'er us 
When things we wish come not to make us 
glad, 

And cares allay. 

51 



A hero bold 
The ardent youth desires to be, and ever 
Is striving onward with a sturdy mind ; 
He falters not ; it is his heart's endeavor 
By perseverance, deeds of Virtue find, 
Ere he grows old. 

Were we to know 
The wishes of his dear fond anxious mother 
As now he stands before her with a smile, 
We'd pray they all be granted and no other 
Desires would burn within us all the while, 
Such love we'd show 



MY THOUGHTS GO WANDER- 
ING BACK TO HOME. 

WHETHER with book or pen my thoughts 
are prone to linger, 
When worldly cares are cast aside, 
Something beside the poet's sweetest dream of 
fancy, 
Within my soul doth e'er abide. 

The purest and the sweetest thought of all 
wherever — 

Ah, where my restless feet do roam, 
Bring memories of dear and happy friends united 

With loving hearts at home, " sweet home." 

To-night I seem to hear the cattle faintly lowing 

And in the pasture, far away, 
I see the butterfly upon the purple thistle, 

In plumes of yellow, dark and gray. 

52 



I hear the humming-bird beneath the cottage 
window, 
The whip-poor-will pipes here and there, 
And in the dusky shades of the sweet summer 
evening 
I see the lambent firefly's glare. 

I see the little brook that flows down to the river 
And hear the sweetest wood bird sing ; 

Oft did we play 'neath the oak tree in the 
meadow, 
With its green leaves and wooden swing. 

I know the house where I was born is burned to 
ashes, 
But still my fancies ever roam ; 
Whene'er the sun is set and daily tasks are 
ended, 
My thoughts go wandering back to home. 

When boys let loose from school we wandered 
o'er the meadows 
Down to the bridge at Forked Run, 
And there with pole and line above the murky 
waters, 
We fished until the set of sun. 

Or teased the geese that gabbled o'er the slimy 
water, 
Or chased the ground squirrel to his den ; 
O, would that I were there beside its rushy 
borders 
To fish in Forked Run again. 

In memory I see the log church in the woodland, 
And hea'r the parson preach and pray, 

I see young lovers standing by the deep-toned 
organ, 
And children young and old men gray. 

53 



These are sweet memories of youth that ne'er 
departed, 
Unto my spirit ever come, 
When evening shades o'er the dark hills are fall- 
ing, 
My thoughts go wandering back to home. 



LITTLE PRINCESS TIP-TOE. 

LITTLE Princess Tip-Toe 
Is just as bright as she can be 
And you would smile if you would see 
Little Princess when at play. 
She never cries or frets at all — 
Now would you think a child so small 
As Princess is, would never cry 
Or coax, or tease, or ever sigh ? 
Well 

Princess 

Don't. 

Little Princess Tip-Toe 
Is always good and very kind, 
She does her mother ever mind 
And she can work as well as play 
By doing errands every day ; 
And if a child should chance to say 
Bad little words, she says, " Oh, Oh ! 
You're 

Not 

Allowed." 

Little Princess Tip-Toe, 
Goes in the fields and shady bowers 
(A child of nature 'mong the flowers) 
And picks the ripened berries there 
With crowns of roses on her hair,, 
54 



While in the valley all is still, 
Save the tinkling of the rill 
Or the sheep-bell on the hill 
Does her heart with rapture fill, 
Kind 

Nature's 

Child. 

Little Princess Tip-Toe 
Is just as good as she can be 
And she can skip and be as free 
As all the little lambs at play ; 
And Princess always does obey 
Her teacher and her parents too, 
And she's so modest, — now do you 
Know any Princess just as true 
Perhaps if we would search we'd find 
A Princess 

Just 

As 

Good. 



55 



JUL 30 1904 



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